


A Reluctant Halloween

by EventHorizon



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Costumes, Established Relationship, Halloween, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EventHorizon/pseuds/EventHorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur wants Martin to participate in Halloween, including a party with the rest of the MJN family.  Needless to say, Martin is less than enthused about the idea...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reluctant Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> Though this is not a sequel to the [Incremental Move-In](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1004794), Archie the Cat makes an appearance. If you've not read that tale, just know that Archie is Martin's rather raggedy cat and a gift from dear, sweet Arthur...

      “No.  Arthur Shappey, I love you dearly, but no.  Absolutely not.  In no manner.  Put the idea as far out of your head as the South Pole and leave it there to live a restful, albeit, chilly life in blissful solitude.”

      “You don’t want to?”

      “I believe my rather strident speech indicated that very fact.”

      “But, Skip… you _have_ to.”

      “I rather think I do not.”

      ‘No, you _really_ do.”

      “I really don’t.”

      “Please.”

      “Do _not_ do that, Arthur.”

      “Please, Skip.”

      “I’m not listening.”

      “Pretty please, Skip?”

      “See?  My hands are over my ears and I can’t hear a word you’re saying.”

      “I’ll make my lip tremble and you know how serious things are when I do that.”

      “I’m closing my eyes and I can’t see it.  So there.”

      “You still know, though.”

      “I certainly do not.”

      “You _know_ I’m quivering my lip and maybe, perhaps, making puppy eyes.”

      “No puppy eyes, Arthur.  This situation is _not_ serious enough to warrant that.”

      “I believe it is.”

      “I believe you’re wrong.”

      “Nope, and I’m doing it.  Big puppy eyes and a quivery lip.  You might as well say yes.  You know you want to, anyway.”

No, he didn’t, but… puppy eyes.  And quivery lip!  Arthur was pulling out the big guns and there was really no resisting at this point.  And, Martin had to admit, Arthur didn’t use heavy artillery unless there was a very good reason.

      “Fine.  I’ll wear a costume.”

      “Brilliant!  And we’re going to go out and get sweets just like the kiddies.  This is super!”

      “Ok, let’s start another round of objections.  I’m not going trick-or-treating and that is my final word on the subject.”

      “Of course you are!  _I_ am and since you’re spending Halloween with me, you are, too.  It’s logic, Skip and you can’t really argue with that.”

      “Arthur… we are adults.  Full-grown, voting-age adults.  We don’t tap on people’s doors and beg for tooth decay!”

      “Well, of course not!  No one wants that!  We beg for sweets!  Well, we ask nicely and hold out our sacks and people give them to us because we’re polite and have very nice costumes.”

The headache was already starting and it was only morning.  Suddenly, Martin wished for a van job or an emergency flight or… dare he say it… a standby, just so he could avoid Arthur’s Halloween mania.  But since none of those things were happening, it was unlikely he was going to bypass the traps and snares Arthur was setting out.

      “How about this, love?  You can trick-or-treat all you want and I’ll be like the dad who stands out of the way so…”

      “You don’t look anything like my dad.”

      “And I am thankful for that for a countless number of reasons, however…”

      “So you’ll be at the door with me, holding out your sack, too!  This is going to be Brilliant!  Oh, and Archie is coming, as well.”

      “Arthur… my cat is not going trick-or-treating.  It can’t even hold a sack!”

      “But Archie loves coming with us when we do things!  Don’t worry, I have everything planned.”

That was exactly what Martin was worried about…

__________

Knocking on Carolyn’s front door had never been so harrowing, and Martin hoped the slight pause before he heard Arthur’s enthusiastic “Hurray!” was a signal the aliens had committed an abduction and he was free to spend the night free of Halloween tomfoolery and getting chased off people’s lawns for being a potential paedophile .  And, in Martin’s opinion, Archie’s expression spoke volumes about his agreement on the subject.  Not that Archie’s expression varied much, but there were definitely touches of disapproval around the eyes and in the drooping of the whiskers.

      “Skip!  Archie!  Brilliant!  Mum’s already left and we can use the whole house to get ready!”

      “Arthur, why do we need the whole house to get ready for Halloween?”

      “Well, we actually don’t, but we can if we want to, which is amazing!  So, come on… follow me.”

Arthur scooped Archie out of Martin’s arms and led his Captain to the bedroom where a large box was pressed into Martin’s hands.

      “Ok, now you go and get changed and I’ll do the same.  Don’t let me see until you’re completely dressed and ready.  I worked a very long time making our costumes and I can’t wait to see what they look like!”

      “Arthur, you know what my costume is, so it’s not exactly a surprise.”

      “But I don’t know what _you_ look like in your costume, so it’s an incredible surprise.  Now, stop arguing and get changed.  Archie and I won’t take long.”

      “Archie and I?”

      “Go!”

      “Fine, but if you humiliate my cat with some ridiculous outfit, I’m not sure he’ll forgive you.”

      “Archie loves me and you always forgive the ones you love.”

That might be sorely tested when Martin opened his box.  But, if he didn’t get dressed, the night couldn’t end, so Martin stalked out of Arthur’s bedroom and into the bathroom where, when he did open his box, decided that Arthur would have to do a _lot_ of work to earn forgiveness…

__________

      “I’m a pumpkin.”

      “Yes!  A nice orange pumpkin!  And see… the little green cap looks like a stem coming out of your lovely orange-y hair, which is very pumpkin-like if you think about it.  And you look brilliant as a pumpkin, Skip!  All round and orange with your little green tights and slippers… you’re going to be the best pumpkin in Fitton!  And the biggest!  I used lots of fabric and wire and bendy tubes to make it the biggest pumpkin I possibly could!”

Now that his irritation was ebbing, due to the irresistible force of Arthur’s joy, Martin had a chance to properly take in Arthur’s own costume.

      “You’re a witch.”

      “Yes!  A very scary witch, too.”

      “Arthur… you are not a woman.”

      “No, I’m not.  You should know that, Skip, since you’ve seen my non-lady bits before.”

      “Then why are you in a dress?”

      “Because witches wear dresses.  Black, scary dresses.”

      “And a wig?”

      “Witches have scary hair, too.  I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve ever seen a witch before, Skip.  I think you might need to read more books so you know things like this.”

      “Arthur, you’re a man dressed as a female witch.  Please don’t tell me you’re wearing knickers.”

      “Umm…..”

      “Oh, dear lord.”

      “But, they’re scary knickers!  They have werewolves and moons on them!”

      “Well, that makes a strange sort of sense, I guess.  And… oh no.  Archie…”

      “Isn’t he brilliant?”

As brilliant as a cat dressed as a vampire could be.

      “He loves his little cape, too.  And, since he’s a cat, he didn’t need any fangs, but I did give him a friend to make him extra scary.”

Arthur had fashioned a small collar, to which was attached a spring that ended in a toy mouse that had been dyed black and had tiny bat wings glued on its back.  It anyone but Arthur had done that, Archie would likely have objected with clawed intensity but… well, it was _Arthur_.

      “He’s… he’s very frightening.”

      “See!  I told Archie that, but I’m not certain he believed me.  And I got him a new leash, so he can walk with us as he likes to do and it’s a very spooky leash, which even has glow-in-the-dark ghosts, which is absolutely brilliant and he’s going to be the happiest cat ever when we’re out getting sweets, even though he can’t have any, but I did bring along some of his favorite treats so he doesn’t feel left out.”

      “That’s very considerate, Arthur.”

      “Thanks!  Now, let’s go.  I want lots of time to get _lots_ of sweets!”

      “Well, we’ll see how willing people are to give two strange adults and one limpy cat their Halloween bounty.”

      “I’m thinking… lots.”

      “We’ll see…”

__________

Arthur was wrong.  It wasn’t lots.  It was _everyone_ …  and it took Martin a good six houses before he figured out that most people thought he _was_ a child and that Arthur was his mother.  The others knew Arthur and… well, _Arthur_ …

__________

      “Arthur… come here.”

      “What?”

      “Now… come here… come here now… here, right here… now!  Arthur come over here before…”

      “Ah, Sir… aren’t we looking grandly globular tonight?”

      “… before Douglas recognizes us.”

Martin had spied the Lexus coming down the road and only wished slightly that a meteor could have struck the Earth before Douglas actually noticed exactly who it was swathed in Arthur’s handmade costumes.  For this, Archie would be blamed, because no one else in Fitton had a nearly one-eared, limping cat on a leash.  Especially in a vampire cape.

      “Douglas!  Brilliant!  This way you get to see our costumes!  Or, are you going to Mum’s party later, because you’ll see them then, too.”

Martin shook his head to clear his hearing and glared at his grinning partner.

      “Party?  Arthur, there was nothing going on at your house, so what are you talking about?”

      “Oh, yes!  I forgot to tell you!  Mum wanted to have a party, then she found out that Herc wanted to have a party.  So she started to plan her party and Herc started to plan his and they started to call people to invite them, but it was really the same people and that caused a lot of confusion, so Mum finally said _she_ was going to have _her_ party, but it would be at Herc’s house so he could pay for it and do all the cleaning up afterwards.  Isn’t that brilliant!”

      “And, to enlighten you, Madame Macabre, I am currently en route to said gathering.  Her Misery, I mean, Her Majesty, demanded my presence on the earlier side to assist with the decorations.  Apparently, Herc doesn’t see any humor in zombie sheep grazing on his lawn.”

      “Why not?  That’s very funny, actually, as long as they’re not real zombies and just regular sheep with little costumes and very scary makeup.”

      “Exactly.  What a spoilsport he is.  A veritable raincloud on the moonlight of our evening.”

      “Oh!  And since we’ve already got full sacks of sweets, we can ride with you to the party!  Brilliant!”

The only bright spot of this disaster, in Martin's opinion, was the horrified look on Douglas’s face at the suggestion.

      “You have a vast expanse of room left in your bag, Arthur, and I think you should make the most of the thread-bound real estate.  Do not give up until you can barely lift your bounty, else expect a visit by truly turbulent spirits to punish you for failing to fully satisfy your Halloween duties.”

      “I think you’re telling a little fib, Douglas.”

      “Oh drat, and here I thought I was being subtle and clever.”

      “Arthur, how about you and I simply have our own party at your house, instead?  We can watch a film, eat our sweets and get out of these dratted… I mean, delightful, costumes…”

      “Nope, I told Mum we’d be there and she’s expecting us.  Anyway, you have to pour people drinks and I have to make sure _Mum’s_ drink stays full, so we have important jobs to do!  Here… hop in…”

Martin had to wonder how much effort it took for Douglas to resist simply hitting the accelerator and fleeing his personal horror story.

      “Arthur, Martin’s van would be far more successful in transporting his… girth.  And I cannot have a feline that is as close to a zombie as Carolyn’s sheep having its way with my interior.

      “Oh, Skip will squish quite nicely and don’t worry about Archie!  He’s very well-behaved and I’m sure Mum would pay for any damage he caused, which will be none because he really is a wonderful little cat and doesn’t ever, well, only once in awhile, scratch Skip’s furniture, but that’s ok because Skip’s furniture is scratchy and denty and wobbly anyway so you actually don't even notice!”

      “Oh… well, if Carolyn shall provide for the necessary reupholstering…”

      “No, Douglas.  You will not slam on your brakes or yell “Dog!” or find a particularly miserable radio station to play at full volume or make a quick stop for a little cat food to sprinkle on your seats… just drive.  Drive and let’s get this over with.”

      “Hurray!  This is going to be fun!”

By whose definition, neither Martin or Douglas was entirely certain.

__________

      “Douglas, why aren’t you wearing a costume?”

      “That, Arthur, is a good question.  And one for which I have a good answer.  I am.”

      “You am… I mean, are… what?”

      “Wearing a costume.”

      “No… that’s your normal clothes.  I know because you made me do your laundry when I had that little accident with the curry and grape juice.”

      “Well spotted!  Ten points to you.  Now, observe…”

Douglas picked up a pipe from the passenger’s seat and put it between his lips.

      “I am closely observing.”

      “Excellent.  And what did you observe?”

      “You nearly hit that lamp post.”

      “Ah… yes.  Well, what caused me to nearly hit the lamp post?”

      “Putting that pipe in your mouth.”

      “Well done.  Now, you are viewing my costume in its grandest splendor.”

      “That’s absurd!  I have to wear a continent’s worth of orange fabric and you call a pipe your costume!”

      “Calm yourself, Sir.  We wouldn’t want your squash-y goodness to steam, now would we?  For your information, the key to a quality, and rather last-minute, costume is subtlety.  Allow the viewer to do the work themselves.”

      “Well, having someone else do the work is definitely one of your most irritating traits, but… a pipe?”

      “And, if I am forced to point it out… a cardigan.”

      “Actually, Skip… he does rather look like my grandfather.  He even has the gray hair and roundish tummy.”

Sometimes, Martin just wanted to hug Arthur to death for his insightful declarations.  Douglas looked _appalled_ …

      “I am an academician!  Or a librarian.  Or a philosopher.  Any deep-thinking individual, actually, for the sake of argument.”

      “Or my grandfather.”

      “That will be quite enough of your ageism or you shall find yourself hoofing it to your mother’s dreary celebration, Arthur Shappey.”

      “Well, I don’t want that!  I don’t actually have any hooves and all my craft supplies are at home.”

      “Then take the remaining time to conference with your cat.”

      “What’s wrong, Douglas?  Arthur cutting things a little too close for comfort?”

      “I have always wanted to carve a truly _large_ pumpkin, Martin.”

      “I think that’s actually one of Mum’s games, now that I think about it.  Skip, you might want to hide for awhile when that gets started.”

      “Oh no… I shall be honored to make our Supreme Commander my personal jack-o’-lantern.”

      “Ok.  No, more than ok – that’s brilliant!  But you’ll have to use a pen instead of a knife.  Skip – how lucky is that!  Douglas is going to make you even more Halloweeny!”

      “And I do believe that ‘weenie’ shall be a major theme in my artistic efforts.”

      “This is the best Halloween I could possibly imagine!”

      “Arthur… pet Archie.  And please don’t mention Halloween, again.”

      “Correction, Sir.  Hallo _weeny_ … we have moved to an entirely new level of revelry.”

__________

      “Ah, Douglas… dreary.  But not unexpected.  Arthur… how much you look like your mother, warts and all.  And Martin… how utterly embarrassing for you.”

      “Thank you, Hercules.  If you would now point me to your personal zombie apocalypse, I shall make it ready to stare with dead eyes and wooly hunger at your door.  I do hope you have no need to actually leave your property for the next… oh, week or so.”

      “Herc!  You look amazing!  Doesn’t he look amazing, Skip!  Just like a real pilot!”

A real aviator with period costume, goggles, scarf…  but that was nothing compared to being a pumpkin, thought Martin.  For instance, a dashing pilot couldn’t double as an emergency beacon in a snowstorm, now could he?

      “And Mum!  You look… I didn’t think you could still fit into your flight attendant uniform!”

      “Thank you for that, Arthur.  It was not as if I had a great variety of choice for an alternative since you purchased nearly every bolt of fabric in Fitton for your Halloween extravaganza and the highly-anticipated life-size crèche you are planning for the airfield at Christmas.”

      “And I got lots of wool, so the Wise Men won’t have to be cold while visiting with baby Jesus.  I’m going to knit him a little hat and coat, too for the same reason.”

      “And, as always, the mother is utterly forgotten.  Hail Mary, full of frost… shivery be thy name… Now, take Martin’s mangy cat into Herc’s study with the other animals and return to me with a glass of something that would make a highly enthusiastic firebomb.  You have two minutes.  Go.”

Arthur rushed off to take care of Archie and secure Carolyn’s weaponized whiskey, while on her part, Carolyn looked over her pilots and let loose a disgusted sigh before motioning Douglas to follow, Herc’s eyes widening in panic as he watched them begin to conspire.

      “And I am left with you, Martin.  Which is surprising since aren’t you supposed to be working?  There are the bottles.  There are the glasses.  There is… there should be… enough room for you to squeeze behind the bar.  Why don’t you be a good boy and get started.”

      “Maybe because there’s nobody here.”

      “ _I_ am here.”

      “Like I said… nobody’s here.”

      “My, aren’t we a prickly little pumpkin tonight.”

      “Please don’t say ‘ _prick_ ly.’  I’ve had enough of that already with Douglas.”

      “Stealing my entendres, is he?  How boring.”

      “I think the sheep will make up for it.”

__________

It didn’t take long for Herc’s house to fill up with costumed party-goers and Martin was run ragged trying to make drinks he had never heard of, but he found quickly that anything alcoholic was acceptable, so long as it was strong and plentiful.  For his part, Arthur became an impromptu cocktail waitress, bringing drink orders and clearing glasses, all while still being the most convincing witch at the party.  Another few hours and the energy began to shift, with relevlers drinking more slowly and music changing to a slower tempo and Martin finally had a moment to enjoy a little of what he was pouring and was joined, with a large glass of juice, by his Arthur.

      “Well, this is a far more… employed… Halloween than I anticipated.”

      “But it was brilliant!  I got to talk to so many people and they all loved my costume!  And yours, too!  And I showed Archie around as well, I don’t know if you noticed that, but now I have lots of people who want me to make costumes for their pets next Halloween.  I’m going to have to start right after Summer Christmas if I want to get them all done in time!”

Martin sipped his drink and let Arthur pour out his excitement.  He was hot and itchy in his costume, was sure at least a few people had taken his picture, probably for future humiliation purposes… he was hungry and tired and not a bit of it mattered because anything that made Arthur smile that broadly was, without question, worth the price.

      “I’m thrilled for you, Arthur.  It’s good that you got to show off your talents and have a good time, in the bargain.  Now, I do think they’re playing a slow song and… well, I don’t know how we’ll work it, but, I’d be honored if I could have this dance.”

Arthur gasped and guzzled his juice, setting aside the glass and, leaning forward with widely-spaced arms, nodded for Martin to move forward so at least his fingers could rest on Martin’s shoulders.  Even though they couldn't do more that sway a little and move slowly a few steps to and fro, it was the sort of dance that Martin felt was the best of all – a dance you shared for the sole purpose of celebrating with the person you love, just how wonderful and special _was_ the love you shared.  And if the dance lasted all night, he would be perfectly content.

      “Oh, Sir?  And Mrs. Sir?  I hate to disrupt your shambling, however, your assistance is required on the front lawn.”

Martin reluctantly broke away from Arthur and scowled at the smirking Douglas Richardson.

      “And what assistance might that be?”

      “Apparently, the Alpha Dog decided that cardboard zombie sheep were not sufficiently in the spirit of the season and has had delivered a brace of Fitton’s finest living specimens to supplement the holiday.  Martin, you are to hold our zombies stationary.  Arthur, you are to decorate them.  Supplies are waiting.   Do enjoy yourselves.”

      “Brilliant!  I get to put makeup on real sheep!  This is the best Halloween ever!”

And, somehow, Martin had a feeling that next year would make this one look tame…


End file.
